Despite Plans
by ValkyrieStorm803
Summary: Hermione always had a plan. Career, boyfriend, marriage and children. It was a perfectly reasonable plan, until it started falling apart. Partial Marriage Law. SB/HG. Updated after being beta read by Slytherclaw Faerie. Reviews are very much appreciated!
1. The Break Up

Hermione always had a plan. Sure, helping defeat Voldemort threw in a few hitches, but she always knew she would get ten OWLs despite Umbridge's interference. She would get her NEWTs and then enter a career at the Ministry of Magic. Somewhere around that time Ron would be her boyfriend, they'd get married, and have children - all while she maintained a career.

Well, that was the plan anyways. What Hermione Granger didn't count on was just how _boring_ sex with Ron Weasley would be. The first time with him was understandably uncomfortable; the next few times were fun with a little more knowledge of how their bodies interacted. Then the fizzle was gone - she didn't even get wet for him anymore. Hermione became an expert in wandless lubrication for sex, yet when masturbating she had to lay out towels or change the sheets. They hadn't started living together, although Ron had tentatively brought up the subject one day before she rushed off to a meeting. It became easy to push Ron away, finding excuses of work, getting ready for a Burrow dinner, or a night at the pub. Spending less time together made Hermione realize how uncomfortable she was with Ron, so it was no surprise when she opened his bedroom door to find his freckled ass pumping to enthusiastic squeals of "Won-Won!"

'Well, that is going to make Burrow dinners awkward,' she thought to herself as she headed to the kitchen. Hermione didn't mind that they hadn't noticed her discovering them in bed. She scrawled "We're done. HG" onto a piece of parchment, and left it at Ron's place at the table before she left. The rest of her night was spent drinking tomato soup from a large mug and finishing up her modified magical taser.

Career, boyfriend, marriage, children. The plan was a rather vague now without Ron filling the role of boyfriend, then husband and father. Hermione wondered if she should feel offended that Ron didn't respond except to owl her a simple "Sorry."

* * *

"Granger, what now?" Hornsby huffed, not bothering to look up from his writing.

"Sir, I wanted to ask about the analyst position with the Muggle Artifacts department."

"Goldstein got it."

She startled at his short response, "I spoke to you about it a month ago, I didn't receive any -"

"Goldstein got it; you just weren't right." Hornsby finally looked up. "Granger, you've got technical qualifications, but people have to actually like working with you before giving you a job. Now go, I have an idiotic meeting to fall asleep in."

* * *

Being passed over for promotion for the third time hurt, then to find out she was disliked by _all_ her coworkers made it better. Hermione was dogged by paparazzi who took pictures of her alone, pictures she found in the newest Prophet collaged next to Ron and Lavender trying to sneak out of St. Mungo's. She had always taken care of birth control, when they were together, but with the forgetfulness of both her ex and his new girlfriend, a new baby Weasley was probably already on the way. It was a Thursday when the brilliant Hermione Granger was drinking firewhiskey straight from the bottle and crying against the side of the Archway and Veil in the Department of Mysteries - the only place she found devoid of people and paparazzi. While there she took out her taser and discharged it thinking how satisfying Ron's expression would be with a good blast to his testicles. She smiled to herself at the thought, until the taser slipped from her grasp.

The taser housing held together on the first bounce, on the second bounce it was still keeping a continuous current. Hermione watched in horror as her taser skittered towards the Veil. A low hum started before the curtains of the Veil began started fluttering rapidly, as though caught in a gale force wind. Hermione pulled out her wand quickly summoning her taser back, but was dismayed when the hum grew louder. The taser's electrical current must have disrupted the Veil's fundamental magic. 'Oh Merlin, I'm going to get sacked.' Panic quickened her steps as she skittered back away from the arch.

The Veil flickered almost too fast for the eye to see, when a body was suddenly catapulted out. Sirius Black slid from the Veil's grasp like a greased pig, straight into Hermione Granger.


	2. Nott-icals

Theo Nott was in her living room. Hermione was still in sweatpants and a tank top without a bra.

"Heard you got sacked."

Her career had imploded, and she had been promptly fired less than twenty-four hours ago. She gave zero fucks at this point, so what if Nott saw her jiggle.

"Also, a little birdie said you modified a taser… and that's what resurrected Sirius Black in February."

Hermione started the kettle, eyeing her tea supply and mentally sighing, might as well be polite. She poured a cup for both herself and her unexpected guest.

"The investigation was closed yesterday. Well done on your source. What are you doing here, Nott?" The aristocratic Pureblood took the cup with moue - the orange mug clashed terribly with his navy double breasted suit.

"I'm offering you a position in my new company. You get to tinker with muggle gadgets, be head of your own department and afford better tea." Hermione's mouth fell open. Now she wished she had a bra on. Nott opened a briefcase she hadn't noticed at his feet, her eyes still crusty from sleep. He pulled out a thick stack of papers and set it down on her worn kitchen table.

Taking a breath to collect her racing thoughts, "How long do I have to consider the offer?"

Nott snapped the case closed as he stood, "I'd like to have it on my desk by the end of business Wednesday afternoon. Have a good weekend Granger. Good to see age and stress haven't brought you down." Nott threw a pinch of Floo Powder in the fireplace and nodded towards her chest before announcing "Nauticals" and stepping through.

Hermione looked down and noted that her breasts were indeed just as perky as when she was still in Hogwarts. If she wasn't so sure that Nott was an elitist pig, she'd feel flattered. The first page clarified Theo's floo destination, she would be working for a company called Nott-icals.

* * *

Nott landed in the empty reception area, turned and walked down the smartly decorated hallway. He ghosted his fingers over the orchid plant in front of his office, before opening one of the double doors. There was a clink as he found his silent business partner pouring a second glass of whiskey, which Nott gratefully took when it was extended to him.

"How was your special meeting?"

Nott unbuttoned his jacket and let his muscles relax. "It went well. We now have a Head of Muggle Integration. She'll sign the papers by Tuesday."

Sirius Black sprawled out over a leather armchair, eyes heavy lidded as he rolled a galleon across his knuckles with languid grace. "Hermione Granger will be in charge of modifying your precious motor collection for public wizarding consumption." Sirius raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued and muscles tensed. The elder cleared his throat and shifted.

"Hermione Granger, you say?" Sirius resisted the urge to knock back the rest of his drink. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, and he desperately hoped he said that at a normal volume. "And how was my favorite resurrector?" Nott smirked.

"Delightfully tousled." Sirius' grip tightened on his glass letting his mind replay his last memory of a delightfully tousled Hermione Granger.

* * *

Sirius Black didn't speak much of his time in the Veil. He just let others think that he couldn't recall much, rather he preferred the present. He remembered freezing his balls off waiting in a never-ending queue which led up to a pair of enormous metal doors that radiated a most glorious heat. His next memory was landing on a wonderfully soft and warm witch, his head cushioned on a lovely rack and crotch just inches where it should be, fingers tangled into brown curls that tickled his nose and caressed his face. He was warm for the first time in longer than he could recall. Sirius Black looked up and realized his godson's best friend had grown up just right. Well, damn.


	3. Pavlovian

Sirius loved sex and going fast with a motor, so after the several hours in the Department of Mysteries,, being questioned by Unspeakables and prodded by Healers he used his sudden freedom to do what he loved. Six months passed in a blur - a sea of tits soundtracked with the roar of an engine. In those months, he realized he had a problem. No matter how many orgasms he had before his eyes closed for the night, Sirius was plagued with dreams. A soft body, brown curls that wrapped around him, his face nuzzled against large, firm breasts, chocolate brown eyes first widened in shock before sparking alight with passion, and a shocked voice crying out at him.

Every morning Sirius Black woke up to the results of a wet dream, ejaculating to the raised dulcet tones of Hermione Granger screaming. It was awkward the first few times. Sirius would just shrug and tell his bedmate it was sex deprivation from three years in the Veil, two years on the run, and more than a decade in Azkaban. Six months in and Sirius had managed to dodge several false paternity claims and a slew of gold-diggers looking to continue the Black line. The first time he supposedly knocked up a girl, he tumbled out of Adrian Pucey's reception fireplace to find Nott Junior in the waiting room sipping his tea delicately. Sirius felt his Pureblood manners automatically come to the forefront. The Slytherin waited for the older man to right his robes before greeting him with a nod.

"Black."

"Nott. What brings you here?"

"Pucey is handling legal for setting up my new company. You?"

"Paternity suit."

The receptionist served Black a perfect cup of tea, just the way he liked, and then informed him that Pucey was running behind by a half hour. "Well, tell me about this company."

Nott hesitated for a half a moment before smoothly introducing Nott-icals. Thirty minutes later Sirius was accompanying Nott into Pucey's office to sign as silent partner - an investor to fund adapting muggle motor-vehicles for the Wizarding World.

* * *

"So sorry, Ms Granger. The city chose this block for the new motorway. The wrecking crew will be arriving next week." Hermione stared in disbelief at the eviction notice.

She felt the beginnings of a migraine, and it wasn't even eight o'clock yet. The runes and wards were set perfectly, where she could get muggle-delivered pizza and redirect Howlers; it had been no small feat achieving that precise balance. The witch sighed and weakly smiled a farewell to her landlord, before closing her door and viciously slashing her wand through the air. Her belongings jumped up with a quiver and started packing themselves. Two months of working at Nott-icals, and Hermione was starting to feel confident enough to start up on the plan again. Now she was going to be homeless, and derailed again.

* * *

Sirius grimaced and swallowed the shitty coffee. No matter how efficient his house-elf Waffle was with everything else, he just couldn't get coffee right. He rustled the papers, flipping the pages one-handed, and snorted. There was only one constant in the world - the politicians being shite. Legislation to 'revitalize' the Wizarding World with diminishing magical birth rates. They could just provide free genetic testing for planning couples and provide a child tax incentive. Much cheaper than whatever cockamamy tripe this mandatory registration was bound to be. He drained the cup and hollered,

"Waffle!" The little house-elf popped in to take his mug. "Be sure to burn whatever knickers Whats-Her-Name left, she tossed them somewhere. And slam the door in her face if she comes round with the excuse of getting them back."

"Yes, Master Sirius."

Sirius Flooed to Nott-icals looking forward to pestering his favourite Head of Muggle Integration, and getting his hands on that new shipment of superbikes. He emerged already strutting towards the glass office, its opaque walls indicating Hermione was inside.

Working with Hermione Granger felt like walking a knife's edge. Sirius' dreams were now supplemented with huffs of frustration, tiny smiles, annoyed sighs of his name and phantom brushes of her skin. When she reached a threshold and raised her voice at him, his dick immediately plumped. The first time she shrieked at him to get out of her office, he had to slowly walk out with a raging erection. Sirius let himself in through the glass door, and stopping short, blinked at the sight in front of him.

"What in Merlin's name is all this?" There were boxes lining the entire side wall. Hermione was poring over the classifieds of the Quibbler and Prophet, several quills holding her hair in a bun.

"Muggle road construction has turned me out of my flat. I have to find a new place." Sirius blinked again, then smirked.

"Love, why didn't you say? The new house has a whole upper suite I'm not using. You know Waffle hates having only me to take care of. Granted, he makes shite coffee, but it will be much cheaper than anything else you might find."

Hermione paused in the middle of circling an ad. Could she possibly live with a man whore like Sirius? She was fairly proficient at silencing spells.

"Well, the coffee wouldn't be a problem, I've just approved an espresso station. But -"

"Then it's settled!" Sirius lazily flicked his wand and in two strokes had banished all of her belongings to his home.

"Hang on, Sirius! It's not settled. I wouldn't feel comfortable living with a revolving door of your paramours."

"Not to worry, love. Most of the wild oats are out of my system," he smiled with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Just till you find something then." Hermione slowly set aside the newspapers and repeated. "Just till I find something then."

"Excellent! Where's my morning kiss? Then you need to show me that espresso machine." Hermione sighed in annoyance, pecked him on the cheek, and led the way out of her office. A grinning Sirius watched her hips sway as she trotted down the hall.

* * *

More than eighteen months later Hermione and Sirius still share a kitchen and a wondrous magical espresso machine. Even if Waffle mutters darkly at the contraption every morning.

* * *

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	4. Marriage Law

Notes: The fourth section is smut.

* * *

"Morning!" Sirius handed over Harry's cup while sipping from his own, then turned back to finish making Hermione's flat white.

"What are your plans for today?" Sirius swallowed and smiled as a clear thump sounded from upstairs. He set down the coffee and pointed up.

"Reining in the beast." Harry grinned.

"Ah, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. Say hi to Arthur for me then." The Boy-Who-Lived made himself comfortable at the kitchen table, stealing the sports section as he did every alternate morning. Before he settled in to read, Harry noticed a large pile of letters. "What's this?"

Sirius glanced over. "Marriage Law letters. All of Hermione's suitors. Best not to disturb. We just finished sorting it all." Harry's scar crinkled as his brow furrowed.

"I'd have tossed all them out." Harry frowned at the name on the top envelope. Thorfinn Rowle. "Death Eaters are proposing to her now?" Sirius held out the flat white as Hermione flew into the kitchen in a whirlwind of sensible work attire and a delicate chiffon scarf. She grabbed it and plunked down on a chair, sorting through her black shoulder attache as her pumps floated in and fitted themselves on her outstretched feet.

"Aye. That's the reject pile, didn't make the cut. Not because they're Death Eaters mind you, just unacceptable according to the list." The list even had 'The List' printed in red capital letters.

"We didn't get to sending out her rejection letters yet." Hermione pulled out a yellow notepad and was busy scribbling something that couldn't wait long enough to finish her hair. Sirius started twisting her locks with practised ease before inserting bobby pins, and Harry grinned as he watched his godfather mumble through a mouth of metal strips. "Cutting it a bit close though. Only has, what, a month before they just pick someone for her." Hermione snorted.

"I don't have time for such nonsense. Not my fault silly purebloods can't mate without sharing 12.5% genetic material." Sirius finished the hairstyle with a gentle tap of his wand.

"Yes, dear. We're all sisterfuckers." The pen and notepad got shoved into her bag, and she carefully felt her hair before smiling with approval.

"Well, if you weren't, I wouldn't be hounded about my marital status." Sirius sighed and thanked Waffle for the steaming plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. He took his seat and watched Hermione eat a piece of toast, her wand flicking steadily to fold floating rejection letters, as Harry expounded on his latest imaginary adventure with Teddy Lupin.

The last Marauder felt rather content. The woman of his nightly wet dreams lived a floor above him, and he test trialed magic-powered motor vehicles for a living. It hadn't been hard to fall into a routine. He knew it wasn't part of Hermione's plan to continue living with him; she had certainly expected more women of nightly entertainment. But Sirius easily gave up his tomcatting for quiet nights of reading together. He woke up with dirty sheets either way. Though the last five months of avalanching Marriage Law mail kept them busy, meticulously eliminating candidates with her bloody List of required husbandly properties. The brilliant Hermione Granger was too thick for subtle wooing.

* * *

Hermione could feel her hair starting to fall out of the pins and whatever charm Sirius had used. She sighed at the clock It was rather late in the evening and impressive that most of the pins were still in their original configuration. The successful meeting had resulted in Nott moving their launch date up by a month, tripling the usual paperwork. Hermione put down her quill and stretched a foot out to nudge a mumbling Sirius with her toe. He looked tired, and switched hands to write while stretching the other out from a cramp.

"Time to pack it in, I think." Sirius brightened at her words and almost bounced up. He pulled her in with an arm about her waist and pecked her cheek before side-along apparating them to the house.

"Alright, out with it. You've behaved all day without excessive complaining. What do you want?" Sirius cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Darling, I'm hurt. To think that I'm not always on my best behaviour."

Another pin popped out of her hair, and in a moment of lunacy Hermione blew the falling hair from her eyes and said, "I'll do whatever you want, Sirius, just let me get to bed before morning." In that instant, the arm around her tightened and Hermione was pulled in against his firm chest. She also felt an equally firm nudge at her hip. His eyes darkened to a charcoal.

"Marry me." If not for his expression, Hermione would have pulled away with a laugh.

"You're serious."

"You pulled me out from the Veil, love. We even live together, you should know my name by now."

"No, you prat. The new marriages require fidelity and fertility charms. You can't possibly want to be stuck with one woman and a gaggle of children." He shrugged and his chest shifted against her nipples.

"I haven't had sex in a year and half. Enough bints claim their child to be mine, the idea has grown on me." He _was_ serious. "And I fit your bloody List."

He actually did. She only had a month to decide either way, but Hermione refused to be married without some chemistry. Lesson learnt with the Ron fiasco. And she was curious about the hype around Sirius Black. Might as well be practical about it. Her life plan was pretty blown up with the Marriage Law as it is.

"I refuse to lay back and think of England for the rest of my life. If you and I are sexually compatible enough, then sure." Hermione thought the rumours couldn't possibly be true, but it would be interesting to find out.

Sirius couldn't help leaning in and kissing her softly. Hermione always kept her word, if she agreed then it was as good as an Unbreakable Oath; he still couldn't quite believe it.

"Tomorrow then. There's not enough hours until sunrise to prove how good we'll be."

* * *

Sirius had a plan. It was simple. Easy day of paperwork, home for a nice dinner, fuck her brains out, sneak a proposal in while she was screaming yes, get married. Simple. Until a section of the lab blew up, when a new employee couldn't keep his wand holstered near flammable liquids.

They got home at a decent hour since the entire floor had suffered from flaming debris. He groaned as he smelled the dinner Waffle had taken great pains to prepare, and the tiny fountain of chocolate fondue merrily bubbling on the coffee table. Waffle vibrated with excitement, bowed and disappeared. Hermione's shoes clacked against the floors behind him as she kicked them off. She rounded the bulk of Sirius and drew up short at the candles and roses. He watched the tension in her shoulders melt away as she breathed out,

"Oh, did you plan this Sirius? It's lovely." Hermione hesitated before leaning up to kiss him. "Maybe today won't be so horrible after all." And so started two hours of sheer hell. While they had thought provoking discussion, and didn't splatter chocolate everywhere, Sirius was confident his dick would split his pants at any moment. Mid sentence he yanked her in for a kiss with a growl.

* * *

Whatever jokes of dog slobber she had thought up were dashed in the furious passion attacking her mouth. Not one bit of magic and somehow they were naked in his bed, her fingers running across his tattoos, sliding into his hair. The air cooled his line of kisses trailing from her lips to her mound, and he settled in like a starving man.

Sirius couldn't remember the last time he could indulge. He was rather particular, and usually his past one-night stands were bent on riding his girthy cock. He thought Hermione's pussy was the prettiest thing. It was all neatly kept, and he briefly wondered if she'd ever wax for him, before he flicked his tongue against her clit. It was intoxicating. Her nectar, the little bucks and clenches, the sexy moans and bossy mutters of 'There! More, more, more! Swirl.' He had to remember not to lick up all her wetness when she orgasmed the first time. Sirius couldn't believe it was real, as he brought her up onto her hands and knees and entered heaven.

Hermione shrieked at the stretch and it was all he could do not to come, fighting against the Pavlovian reaction while heavily thrusting. His lip would likely be bloody by the end of this. Focus, focus, that's the spot. Oh, thank Merlin! Sirius felt her fluttering clench before letting himself blast her inner walls with semen.

* * *

She breathed deeply in slumber as he slipped the ring onto her finger. Sirius was barely able to spell them hastily clean, but was satisfied his Pavlovian reaction was conquered after Hermione screamed herself hoarse.

Hermione Black. Granger-Black? Black-Granger? Hermione Black sounded best.

He managed to get a good seven and a half hours of sleep before he woke up to a furious Hermione. Neither of them remembered the contraceptive spell.

They got married at ten in the morning.

* * *

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	5. Matrimony

Harry frowned. The Floo fire was amber instead of green. The 'not available' colour was an uncommon occurrence at the Granger-Black residence, or 'the Grack', as Sirius fondly called it. Well, Sirius did say they had a big meeting with the Muggle Artifact Office. Notti-cals would probably make a large announcement if they were getting approvals on a new product launch.

The hero turned recluse mourned the coffee he had been looking forward to, then shrugged and started brewing instant coffee. Harry was on the second to last page of the sports section when his fireplace ejected a blur of red and orange.

"Harry!" Ah. Ron. Usually he was sitting on the reserve bench at quidditch practice by now. Harry poured more sugar into his mug and waited as the stomping drew closer.

"What the hell is this?" A paper was shoved into his face, and Harry pushed the newsprint just far enough to take off his smudged glasses.

"Ron, I'm not that near-sighted. Sit down and let me see." It was the Daily Prophet's front page. Harry hadn't even looked at it before checking Puddlemere's latest trades.

There was Hermione in her bitchiest business suit, giving purebloods a run for their tailors, snarling at someone for incompetence. Right beside her was a slightly older picture of Sirius, taking off his helmet still astride his motorcycle with his smuggest panty-melting smile. **Marriage Law Victim - Sirius Black!** Exclusive scoop on Sirius Black trapped in sham marriage by known man-eater Hermione Granger. Pregnancy, blackmail, love potion, Unforgivable? Pre-nup contract or empty Black vaults?

Harry looked up at Ron pacing back and forth. He could sense an incomprehensible rant on the horizon.

"She's such a hypocrite! Married! 'Course we heard nothing. They were probably together before we properly broke up! I knew there was a reason she was acting weird! I thought she was just a prude but it's obvious what was going now!" Harry felt his forehead fall to the table.

"Ron."

"No, listen Harry. It all makes sense now!"

"Ron."

"I should have known it was something like this. Mum always knew it!"

"Ron." Harry gave him a few more paces before casting a silencing charm. "Ron. For the love of our friendship you will sit down and listen." Ron kept trying to yell through the charm. "Or you can explain to your mother _and_ Ginny why I will no longer visit the Burrow." Ron swallowed and sat quickly, two peeved Weasley harridans were the equivalent of death. Harry held up a finger with each point.

"Sirius was resurrected as a _result_ of Hermione catching you with Lavender.

"He can't have fucked Hermione _through_ the Veil.

"You _know_ Hermione was forced into this by the Marriage Law.

"The Prophet is garbage and the only mental thing your mum does is believe it.

"I endured _hours_ shopping for Lav's ring with you last week."

At each raised finger, Ron slowly lost steam. Harry cancelled the charm and got up to rinse his mug in the sink. His best friend was an idiot sometimes but usually found his way back to reason. Harry smiled when Ron sighed.

"Yeah, you're right. Just surprised you know? I thought Sirius was still living it up." Harry pulled out some digestive biscuits before Ron started rifling through the cupboards.

"They take care of each other." Harry liked his godfather better with a reason to live. Before Hermione moved in, the dangerous devil-may-care attitude made him wonder if Sirius wasn't severely depressed. Death changed you, and as the Chosen One, he had only died for a few minutes. Sirius had been behind the Veil for years. Hermione had always been a workaholic. But somewhere along the way she stopped smiling as much, started leaving get-togethers a little earlier, got quieter. Sirius always managed to tease a smile out of her. Talk about opposites.

* * *

Theodore Nott Jr. threw the two notes from his partner and his best employee on top of his newspaper. Thankfully, Hermione had the forethought to drag Sirius in to finish the last forms immediately after their ceremony. He could finally get back to writing the quarterly report, after being hauled out to witness their marriage vows. Nott paused. It was customary to send a gift, surprise or not. It would be preferable to a repeat of the Christmas argument he had with Hermione last year. He clucked and his owl alighted delicately on her perch.

"Send this to the Grack, won't you Agatha?" His owl hooted softly in warning before taking off.

* * *

Hermione rebraided her hair for the second time that day, reading Nott's floating missive. Sirius seemed to take offense at anything that bound her hair during sex. She couldn't help her lips turning up. The man was ridiculously single-minded about sex, checking off surfaces they christened in their home, but he did little things. Wonderful little things like: pin up her hair when she was in a rush, make her smile despite the most horrible day, rub her feet in the bath. He had taken the newspaper out of her hands and set it on fire, then sent a series of Howlers in a tightly controlled voice.

"Piss off. If you don't want a bankrupting lawsuit, stop attacking my wife. Attached is a retraction prepared by Solicitor Adrian Pucey to be printed on the front page of your next issue, detailing her accomplishments and efforts in saving your lives as Hermione Black nee Granger. She will continue to be supported by her loving husband, Sirius Black." The resulting flurry of feathers was amusing, as owls dropped urgent post on the heads of paparazzi, followed rapidly by pops of apparition. Hermione had tried ignoring the media, sending polite letters of explanation, a few Howlers, some blackmail, but never lawsuit threats.

Nott had tersely given them paid leave starting immediately. Despite all her plans, she was now married to a man who didn't give a damn. Sirius acted without a care if the world thought him heroic or not. Now Hermione Black had an entire month to show the snoring man slowly sliding off their couch just how wonderful she thought he was.

* * *

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	6. Exposed

Sirius was pleased with what his post-Veil life. It was the third week of their honeymoon, and nine times out of ten he had been able to talk Hermione into new sexual endeavors. It often paired fucking with something else he loved: drizzling chocolate sauce over her body, slowly thrusting into her while watching a football match, licking champagne out of her pussy, doggy style after chasing her in their backyard, bubble baths with her ankles over his shoulders.

He never thought she would say yes to his ideas, and starting choking on his own spit when she started listing conditions for her agreement. He readily agreed to every one of her stipulations; Sirius Black was not an idiot. In fact, he felt positively godlike. Balls deep in the love of his life, he listened to her delectable squeals as he fucked her from behind through her climax while high in the sky astride his idling motorcycle. His pubic hair was drenched with her essence; the engine vibrations stimulated her clit. Sirius was lost in the sensations until the camera flash went off - a particularly aggressive paparazzo had broken through their Muffilato, Disillusionment, and Notice Me Not charms.

"What the fuck-"

The mousey man clung to his broom and dodged the barrage of spells Sirius hurled; his camera remained intact though its owner singed. Hermione sobbed as Sirius gently disengaged and held her tightly.

"Darling, it's alright."

"T-they're going to-" She couldn't finish the sentence but they both knew. Whatever publication off-colour enough to print the picture would fling it across the entire Wizarding World.

"This is so embarrassing!" Sirius stroked her hair as she cried, pressing kisses to her curls as he murmured spells to clean them up. He righted their clothing, then took Hermione's face in his hands. Her tears streamed into his palms.

"I will never _never_ be embarrassed of you. I love you, and they can all hang." He cleaned her face with a whispered spell while kissing her softly.

"I love you too, Sirius."

"Even if this was all my fault?" She huffed against his lips before he felt them curl against his.

"Even if it was all your fault."

* * *

Sure enough the pictures were published, cropped skilfully or blurred to prevent the paper from selling softcore porn. Sirius sicced Pucey on all of them. It irked him - that blissed-out facial expression should be his alone, and it was being bandied across England. He didn't even stop to wonder how their warded Floo was being activated, until two aurors stepped through. Shit.

"Gentlemen. How can I help you?" One of them, his badge read Auror Smith, handed over a scroll; the other looked around with poorly concealed interest. Sirius was relieved to see the word 'Warning' instead of 'Warrant' on the parchment.

"Sirius, was that the Floo I heard? We just got an owl." Hermione rounded the corner and froze. Sirius watched with fascination as both aurors turned scarlet at the sight of his wife. He gave her the scroll, while Auror Smith cleared his throat several times.

"Mister and Missus Black, by judgement of the Ministry of Magic with Solicitor Adrian Pucey as your defence:

"Lewd acts and indecent exposure result in fines, but as you had sufficient charms broken against your will, and the environs were debatably classified as public, a warning is hereby issued to desist from repeating the offending circumstances."

Sirius smirked as Auror Smith's partner continued to blush as his superior spoke with them, his eyes averted to the floor. Hermione wished for the ground to swallow her whole. "Should you have any questions on this matter, please feel free to direct them through Solicitor Pucey. The Ministry congratulates you on your marriage."

The aurors quickly left once Sirius nodded and thanked them. Though Smith's partner nearly strained his neck as he continued to stare at Hermione as they stepped into the Floo.

"Well, thank goodness for Pucey. Waffle, please make sure to bring up a good bottle of port to send him our thanks. Sirius, Theo's asked us to stop by for tea."

* * *

Hermione was still embarrassed. Thankfully, they weren't going to Azkaban, but the stares and whispers were distracting. She hoped Nott wasn't going to politely fire her. Her hands trembled around the fine Nymphenburg brocade teacup, the vanilla and bergamot scented steam teasing her nose.

"I brought you here to thank you for bringing attention to Nott-icals." _But we won't be needing your services anymore_ Hermione could just hear Nott's aristocratic tones delicately cutting ties; the tears that were pricking her eyes started falling.

"Merlin, what's the matter?" He shook out a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket and hurriedly shoved it into her hand. "Hermione, there's no need for tears. I've already had enough of that from Carla. If I knew that a good round of dogging would get Nott-icals this much press, I would have done it ages ago."

Hermione froze, set down her cup, and turned to wipe her face. Nott with unfailing manners sipped at his cup, his gaze wandered around the room until she shifted back to face him.

"You aren't going to sack me?" Theo's cup met saucer with a clink; the confusion clear on his face.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I've just been caught having sex in public, and it tarnishes the Nott-icals brand?" Nott began chuckling loudly before she finished speaking.

"Witch, we've closed a dozen more deals with the increased publicity. Everyone wants to be associated with the company employing Black's sex bomb wife." Sirius' bark of laughter announced his entrance into Nott's office.

"Nott, what's up with Carla - she keeps saying thank you while she's crying her eyes out." He froze at the sight of Hermione's tear stained face, then growled. "What the hell did you say to her?"

Nott held up one meticulously manicured hand, "Nothing! I was thanking her, but she thought I was going to sack her! Black, why does your wife think people hate her?"

"Hermione, love, haven't you read the latest Witch Weekly yet?" Hermione cautiously took the tabloid magazine from her husband, the mortifying picture taking up the entire front page, with smaller thumbnails of them in public before they married and during their honeymoon. The headline: '(Definitely) Happy Marriage After All!'

* * *

Sirius understood Hermione's tears when the man had propositioned her in the pub. He had shown great restraint warning the man away by drawing his wand from its holster; Sirius felt like shedding a tear for not punching out the smarmy git's teeth. He understood when she burst into tears at the sight of the moving picture front page of the Prophet, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why she was crying over the approved pile of paperwork on her desk.

"Sweetheart. I don't know why you're crying." It was four o'clock in the afternoon and Sirius Black was tired of finding his wife crying over everything. She drew in a shaky breath before wailing through tears.

"I don't know either! I-I'm just felt so relieved and now-" a fresh stream of tears spilled out.

"Right, well, we'll have to postpone with Amal and George; I'm taking you to St. Mungo's." More tears fell as Sirius sent off a Patronus before kneeling in front of his wife. "Darling, I love you. Are you - are you happy? Do you think this is depression?" Hermione knotted her hands up in his shirt and sobbed.


	7. After

The healer eyed them both as she ran diagnostic spells. Sirius braced himself to be taken aside and submitted to questioning under suspicion of spousal abuse - three months in and labelled a wifebeater. The healer holstered her wand, an expression on her face declaring 'You're both idiots,' before handing them a brochure and several pieces of papers.

"Mrs. Black, you're pregnant. The increased emotional sensitivity is due to hormones. Here are lists of prenatal potions and foods. Feel free to purchase a book on the topic from the shop on the first floor. Congratulations." The healer exited quickly, closing the door behind her with an exasperated click; Sirius was too busy kissing Hermione to mind the rude bedside manner.

"My brilliant girl! So smart and sexy, growing my baby. Merlin, I love you."

* * *

The Marriage Law was a complete disaster, and abolished as soon as the next Minister was instated. Not all of the resulting marriages ended in divorce; Hermione and Sirius counted themselves in the minority with their success. Left in its tragic wake were a bevy of unwanted half-blood children. Appalled at the lack of planning for the children once the law was rescinded, Sirius and Harry formed Blackpot Academy - both an orphanae and the first pre-Hogwarts primary school.

Donations poured in as the waiting list of non-resident students grew for the exclusive school. Hermione's influence on the curriculum, all Blackpot alumni were top of the class upon entering any magical secondary school. Construction for extension branches in France and Russia had begun, with full magical government approval.

* * *

"Now, remember the plan for your birthday..." Sirius grinned at the large grey eyes in the solemn boy's face as he knelt on the plush rug in Nott's office. The Slytherin snorted while sipping his tea, watching his friend and godson fondly.

"I want a little sister for my present!" He ruffled his son's curls and beamed, clearly his toddler was a genius. What better complement to his beloved son than a little girl with Hermione's smile?

"Make sure you tell Mummy that."

* * *

Hermione sat in her leather office chair, and grimaced at her beach ball sized stomach before reaching around to sign her name at the end of the contract. The new line of expanded micro cars was expected to raise Nott-icals stock by several Galleons. She sighed as Sirius barged through her door without knocking.

"Sirius, I have absolutely no time to argue with you." Defiant, he tugged her arm to pull her up from the chair, and adjusted a few bobby pins and stray curls before leading her out the door. Hermione pulled away and glared. "Sirius! I have the meeting on broadcasting equipment!"

"You're were to be at St. Mungo's half an hour ago!"

"For an appointment that _you_ scheduled; I won't be bullied!" Sirius raked hands through his hair in frustration.

"Darling, please. You've been having cramps, don't deny it. Nott doesn't even want you in that meeting. He's terrified you'll be plebian enough to give birth in the middle of it."

"This baby obviously just wants to kick at my bladder rather than say hello. I might as well get work do-" Sirius watched in horror as her skirt darkened between her legs. "I guess the baby wants out after all. Come along, maybe it will shoot out as we Floo. Like father, like daughter."


End file.
